


Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story

by ladyarcherfan3



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:21:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25572775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyarcherfan3/pseuds/ladyarcherfan3
Summary: Ahsoka and Rex mourn and come to terms with their losses in the wake of Order 66.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story

Grey. 

It was the chill of the wind, whipping around them as they shifted through dry, dusty earth mixed with ash, the grit of it stinging eyes, chafing skin. 

It was the taste of guilt and grief coating her mouth and throat, aching in her belly. 

It was the smell of burned metal, charred flesh, all gone cold. The stink of death. 

It was the sound of hitched breath as a familiar face was found in the rubble, and how any other sounds were swallowed down. 

It was the lack of the Force flowing through her, blocked and silenced. She could not take feeling the waves of pain and fear and death that roiled across the galaxy, as the light of the Jedi winked out one life at a time.

Grey was the color of the cloak she’s wrapped around herself in a futile attempt at warmth and disguise as the saber hilt rolled out of her hand and landed in the dust in front of the lines of graves. 

They should have left hours ago. The loss of an entire battleship would not go unnoticed, and would mean search parties with more troopers to execute traitors to the Empire. But both she and Rex had too much love for the brothers and comrades lost in that fight, too much guilt at their part in it, to leave the bodies without some form of remembrance.

Ahsoka looked up from where her lightsaber had landed, over the rows of graves, committing them to memory. It was all she could do for now. The next day there would be time and strength to plan their next steps. With a final, silent farewell to the men she fought alongside for so long, she turned back and joined Rex at the Y-wing.

Rex took them up, but did not break atmo. They flew about halfway around the moon and let R7 scan the for likely places to set down for the night. A small cave system near running water and a small forest seemed the best choice, and Rex landed the Y-wing as far under the trees as he could to hide it. The supplies he'd salvaged from the wreck of the battleship were adequate to keep them warm and fed for the night, and R7 was stationed near the mouth of the cave they chose to scan for any incoming ships or patrols. 

It was a relief that they fell into sync so well after their time apart; habits built both by years of battles and the calm between allowed them to work with very little speaking. Each knew what the other preferred to do when setting up camp and balanced the duties. That familiarity was a comfort, now more than it had ever been.

Even after they had the camp stove and a few lanterns lit for warmth and light, with field rations sitting heavy in her belly, there was no escaping the grey mist that had settled in her heart and bones. It took her a moment to realize that Rex was next to her, draping a blanket over her shoulders and pressing a cup into her hands. 

“Here. It's just caf with extra sugar, but start with that. You look like you might be headed toward shock. Or at least a bad adrenaline drop.”

Ahsoka blinked a little as his words sank in. The grey hanging over her mind blurred with the grey walls of the cave, and for a moment, Rex’s face seemed bleached of color and life, like the troopers they had buried. But the faint light caught the white bandage on Rex’s temple, and she was slammed back into the present. 

She caught his hand as he started to draw back and held on, steady and soft. “Rex." His hands were cold against her fingers. "You're shaking."

" 'm fine," he grunted and tried to draw away, but the motion had no real strength to it.

She pulled him down next to her, catching him by the elbows and he went to his knees, head bowed, breathing raw. She drew him close, rising to her knees to get closer to his height. With a soft touch she brought his head against her shoulder and held him.

The tremors were not limited to his hands; his entire body shook, and she tried to soothe him with firm, wide strokes of her hands on his back. Somewhere she felt the same, felt as if her body could come apart at the seams with the pain and fear and loss. But that was not what was needed now. 

"It’s good to mourn," she whispered. Because it was good to allow those emotions to be felt, to accept them and release them. "You are allowed to feel that pain, and your brothers deserve your love and grief." 

They had fought a war together, had grieved together before. She'd seen tears spill from his eyes twice that day alone. But she had never held him as he sobbed so hard he couldn't breathe, that his tears soaked through her cloak and clothing to wet her skin. 

But their world had never been utterly shattered before. 

Ahsoka rode the waves of grief with Rex, buoying him with what strength she had left. She had been taught to help others, lived for it even when she had left the life of a Jedi behind. The memories of those who had helped her in the past welled up in her, warm and strong. 

Instinctively, she opened herself to the Force, amplifying the memories and seeking connection again. Every hug from her master, every kind work from Obi-Wan, the camaraderie with her fellow padawans, the jokes and support of the clones, their repainted helmets - it all flooded her with joy and strength. But that wave was struck by the sudden roar of loss and pain around the galaxy as her mental blocks slipped, and the death of the Jedi struck her in full. 

She let herself grieve. 

There was no way to count the passage of time while so overwhelmed. But when the wave of pain and loss subsided, Ahsoka was exhausted, but no longer hollow and heavy. Rex had pulled her into his lap; her arms were wrapped around him, face pressed against his chest as he held her. She felt the rumble of words against her montrals, even if his voice had gone so hoarse to be nearly silent. 

He was reciting the long list of fallen brothers, honoring their memory by keeping their names alive. 

When his voice gave out, she carried on, and spoke the names of Jedi, their lives now whispers in the Force instead of the bright stars scattered through the galaxy as they had been. 

The list eventually ended, and their strength faded. On the sliver of horizon that she could see past the trees, there was a faint line of grey, signalling dawn. It felt reckless to stay, but neither she nor Rex had the strength to think about leaving, where to go, or how to live as fugitives from the Darth Sidious, at least at that moment. 

She checked on R7's battery levels, and the droid beeped reassurances at her. Rex turned off the lamps and put all the sleeping gear in a sheltered corner as the sky shifted from grey to blue. 

They slept through the day, two people curled against each other for warmth and comfort. Rex sheltered her with his larger body, and Ahsoka let him, knowing they would both rest better for it. It would likely be the last time for a long time they would get to be close to someone they knew and cared for. 

It was late afternoon when they woke again. Unwilling to let go of comfort entirely, they sat side by side, pressed together, and discussed ideas and plans.

"We'll have to disappear, at least for a while," Rex said. "And separate. We'd be too obvious together."

"I know." 

"But we should have some way to communicate, once things cool off," he added. 

The hope in his voice hurt to hear. Ahsoka wanted that hope as well, but had to be pragmatic. "We'd have to be careful." 

He grunted in agreement. "Would still be a good option to have. Good to have backup." 

She took his hand and squeezed it, as his eyes filled with weary sorrow; he'd no longer have an army of brothers to rely on for that, no more Jedi commanders to tip the odds in their favor. "It is."

"I'd tell you to stay out of trouble, but experience makes me doubt you’ll manage that for long."

"Cuz in your mind, experience outranks everything?" She smiled at him and he snorted.

"And I guess we both have a lot of experience getting into trouble." 

"And out of it again, don't forget." 

They charted out a course to a lowbrow space port where they could sell the ship - wiped of insignia and GAR identifiers - and packed up. 

As the moon fell away beneath them, and the stars streaked into hyperspace, Ahsoka took a careful breath. R7 had relayed the mass statements from the self proclaimed Emperor, which declared the Jedi traitors that needed to be eliminated. Her grief ran through her, a steady low thrum of pain and memory. There were so many people who would be forgotten, everything they had worked for shamed and twisted. 

Grey dust still clung to her skin on the creases of her knuckles as she closed her fist around an invisible promise. She would survive, and remember. And when the time came, she would fight for them again.

**Author's Note:**

> It took me a long time to actually watch the final two episodes of The Clone Wars, because I knew it would hurt. And it did. So I wrote this fic to help cope. Many thanks to [glorious_clio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glorious_clio/pseuds/glorious_clio) for her beta work. Title is from Hamilton.


End file.
